


you broke down my walls

by bluedevil18



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Blood, I suppose, M/M, Poor Tony, idk - Freeform, some bad slurs, some mature text?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 18:17:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14141763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedevil18/pseuds/bluedevil18
Summary: Why is he such a mess? He isn’t usually like this. He usually hides his pain, hides his tears. He’s fine, he always is, but there was something about Steve that he didn’t understand. He’s been used so many times, lied to, stepped on, and he tries to channel that steel that Howard - his father - molded, trained, brought out in him, he’d smile and grit his teeth behind a pain filled smile, and he’d kept his eyes dry, and he’d stood firm against the waves, fighting, always fighting.But he supposes, even rock eroded, broke, and gave against the water’s persistent waves.





	1. He Knows But I'm Still Fucked Up

Tony’s pretty sure Steve knows. Fuck, all of the Avengers know. It’s not exactly like he keeps it a secret. But Steve comes from a time where pining after men when you were a man yourself was frowned upon. He’s sure Steve’s disgusted; and he’s pretty sure that Steve will never return how he feels.

They never exactly liked each other, always jabbing at the other, throwing insults here and there, but that was okay. Tony could deal with that- as long as it meant he could still talk to Steve.

But the billionaire knows that the soldier knows. Because now he won’t even look at him. He passes by the genius without a second glance. And Tony longs to see those blue pools turn their focus on him once more.

But he knows he’s only grasping at thin air. Small hopes which will only be shattered to pieces, and not even he’s smart enough to fix that.

He’s drinking again. He promised Pepper he’d stop, but he can’t handle the captain ignoring him.

It’s too much.

He found the bottle of whiskey he keeps for drinks on occasion, and he thinks that this is as good an occasion as any. Unscrewing the cap, he tilts his head back and takes a big swig, the whiskey a pleasant burn down his throat.

And that’s how Pepper finds him later that day: bottle gone and another bottle halfway there.

She frowns and snatches the bottle from him, and he protests weakly, but he knows it’s no use, and his voice dies down until he’s quiet as he let’s Pepper fuss over him, body numb.

Settling him into the bed, he watches vaguely as Pepper gives him a sympathetic smile and finally, pressing a kiss to his forehead, straightens up and turns, making her way out of the room.

Staring at a ceiling in the dark isn’t exactly the most entertaining, but he doesn’t know exactly what else to do. He isn’t tired, and even if he was, he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.

Heaving out a sigh, he rolls onto his side, hand thrown somewhat comfortably under his pillow, and he doesn’t know how long he stares at his alarm clock, but he vaguely remembers the numbers 3:05 on it in red before finally he slips into sleep and darkness blankets him.


	2. You Promised But I'm Broken Anyway

He’s not sure how he got here, in the middle of the night on some random street in the cold air as he leans against his car, hands stuffed into the pockets of his oversized jacket, but here he is.

A blue car pulls up, and in the dark, he’s pretty sure he knows exactly the type, but he doesn’t have half the mind to care.

He only cares about the person currently making their way out of the car, and he watches with numb satisfaction as Steve walks up to him, hands in his coat pockets, blue gaze distinctively on him.

He doesn’t move from his position as Steve stands in front of him, staring down at him, and he doesn’t remember exactly if they said any words at all, but the next thing he does remember is the blond cupping his face and a pair of soft lips on his own.

His hands come up, out of the comfort and warmth of his pockets, to settle on Steve’s biceps, sleeves coming up to barely below his fingertips, and he tries to bring himself closer to the captain, because  _ god, this is what he wanted _ .

It seems as though the taller knew what he was trying to say wordlessly, because he’s pulling Tony closer, kissing him as though his life depended on it.

He pulls away after what seems like forever to rest his forehead against his, gasping softly to pull in oxygen, and Tony swears he’s in heaven.

He clings to him, the feeling of it like a drug, and he decides he’s addicted.

He whispers a plea, to not leave him, and Steve promises he won’t. Tony believes him, and so he lets Steve take him home with a promise that was empty the next day; empty like his bed when he woke up, with no note and only the bare scent of him.

His eyes burn, but he doesn’t cry. He just blinks back the unshed tears and rolls out of bed, numbly realizing that he has to get dressed, a reminder of what he- what they- did the previous night.

Walking into S.H.E.I.L.D. HQ that day, with a pair of skinny jeans and an overbaggy, oversized sweatshirt, painfully aware of the marks that cover his skin, he keeps his head down.

Natasha says hi, as does Clint, and Rhodey does, too, but he can’t even manage to get a sound out, arms hugging close to his chest, and he feels so  _ dirty _ . Like he just let somebody have their way with him. He let them use him, let them label him a slut.

But no one knows that. No one knows about the marks that cover every inch of Tony’s body.

No one knows that Steve now knows every crevice of the billionaire’s body, inside and out.

They know how quiet he is. They notice that Tony won’t talk, that there are no sarcastic marks that come from him.

He let Steve in, with a stupid empty promise.

Only to have him break him.

But he was already broken to begin with, so did any of it matter?


	3. Dirty Used Little Toy

Rhodey knows. Knows what Steve did, what Tony  _ let  _ him do.

And he looks ready to kill.

“Rh-Rhodey, please.” He reaches a hand out in a quiet plea, brown eyes swimming with fear and worry.

He doesn’t get to lay a hand on his shoulder, because Rhodey’s slapping it away and he’s turning, eyes flashing dangerously.

“No, Tony. He  _ used  _ you. I cannot - I  _ will not _ forgive that.”

He had planned on staying quiet, just letting him do whatever Rhodey was going to do, but the words are bubbling up on his lips, and he can’t stop them.

“I let him use me! I let him take me home, with a stupid empty promise! I should have known, okay? I shouldn’t have let him take me home, and use me, like a toy..”

His voice breaks and his words trail off, his hand falling to hang limply at his side. It curls momentarily before relaxing and Tony’s eyes glisten with unshed tears.

Rhodey’s eyes flicker over his face, softening before he sighs and takes a step forward.

“Tony, he  _ used you _ .  _ That is not your fault _ .”

He stares at the wall opposite him, gaze anywhere other than on Rhodey.

“Yes, it is.” His voice was quiet, afraid, but he doesn’t know why exactly. Was it because he was scared Steve was going to walk up any moment? If he did, Tony doesn’t know what he’d do, doesn’t know if he can keep his emotions in check.  _ Hell _ , he doesn’t know what Rhodey’ll do if he sees him either-

“Stark!” Snapping out of his thoughts, he turns to see Nick Fury walking up to them.

“Yeah?” Nick’s uncovered eyebrow arches.

“You came in late this morning. And..what are you wearing?”

His eye looks him up and down, and suddenly, he feels small underneath his gaze. His arms come up once more to hug his body tightly, his own gaze cast to the floor.

He pleads and begs in his head at Rhodey, hoping he’ll say something and he won’t have to.

“He had a rough night.”

Tony closes his eyes, and he hopes Fury’ll buy it.

“And what exactly do you mean by rough night? If by rough night you mean something happened with Captain Rogers, then explain why he came in on time dressed in appropriate attire.”

For the third time that day, his eyes burn with unshed tears, and he thinks this time they’re actually going to spill over. Fury doesn’t buy it, he’s going to have to tell him, and he just said that out loud, and he knows Steve is going to hear him-

“Someone said my name?”

His eyes snap open, and they stare wide eyed at the captain, who is watching him momentarily but turns his gaze on Fury.

“Is everything alright over here, sir?”

“Of course. Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes was just telling me how Mr. Stark here had a rough night.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, and Tony just wants to die right there.

“Oh? How so?”

_ That little- _

“Well, I assumed it was a rough night with you, but you came in on time and in the appropriate attire.”

Rhodey was getting mad, he can tell. He’s just hoping he can keep his anger in check in front of the director or else this might just end up bad-

“Oh, a rough night with  _ me _ ?” His gaze meets Tony and immediately, he curls in on himself, subconsciously moving towards Rhodey, who protectively wraps a hand around his upper arm, ready to put himself in front of the billionaire if things went wrong.

“ _ Rogers _ .” Rhodey growls in warning, and said man looks at him with a look of innocence.

“I have no idea what Mr. Stark here is talking about, nor what Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes is either.”

He wants to scream, hit Steve, but he can’t, he’s glued to his spot next to Rhodey, mouth shut, unable to open for any sound to come out.

“Alright then. Stark, hoodie off. And you better not be late again.”

He pauses, but Tony makes no move to remove his sweater.

“If that hoodie is not off the next time I see you, you’ll regret it.”

He hesitantly moves his fingers to the hem, and pulls it off, cheeks red and gaze cast down, as the lack of fabric uncovers the dark blue and purple marks adorning his neck.

Fury’s face lacks any emotion or thought.

“Hm, looks like you did have a rough night.” And with that he walks off, leaving Tony red faced, Rhodey who looks ready to kill, and Steve with a frown etched onto his face.

When Fury is out of sight, Rhodey turns to the captain, whose frown deepens.

Rhodey goes to speak, but Steve cuts him off.

“Stark.”

He doesn’t want to look at him, doesn’t know what’ll happen if he does-

“Tony, I swear to God, look at me.”

“Don’t you talk to him like that, you son of a b-”

“Will you give us the room, Lieutenant Colonel?”

“I think the fuck not. You’re absolutely out of your mind if you think-”

“Rhodey.” Tony’s voice is quiet, but it’s enough to get the message across.

“Fine, but if you try anything, Rogers.”

“You’ll come after me, I understand, Rhodes.”

Once Rhodey is gone, Steve turns to Tony once more.

“Tony, look at me.”

“Do you like it?”

“What?” 

Tony raises his head to meet the other’s blue gaze, eyes flashing for a moment.

“Do you like what you see? The reminder that you used me? Like I was some kind of toy?”

“Is that what you think this is?”

“I trusted you! I let you take me home with a stupid empty promise! And you left anyway. With nothing, not a note, no. Not a single thing.”

“I..I’m sorry, I really am. I should have left a note. It wasn’t empty, I promise. I promised you I wouldn’t leave you.” He pauses, before reaching out and grabbing Tony’s wrist gently, who flinches and tries to snatch it back, but Steve’s grip is firm.

“Come here. I have something for you, since you can’t wear that hoodie anymore.”

He relents, and lets him take him somewhere that he’s not familiar with, but doesn’t think twice on it. Steve pulls him into a room, and he’s a little surprised to see Natasha.

She looks up and gives a soft smile.

“Hello, Tony. C’mere and let's see if we can’t cover those marks.”


	4. Ruined

He lets him in a second time. Lets him ruin him all over again. He can’t stop, he’s addicted to the feeling of him, that he just doesn’t care if he’s hurt in the process.

But what happens if he’s broken so much he can’t be fixed?

“Stark! You’re early?”

He’s opted for a nice jacket this time, with a tight fitting hoodie underneath, and some jeans.

His sunglasses are on, even if the sun hasn’t come up yet- he just wants to look like his old self.

Maybe then nobody will question him.

He nods, reaching into his pocket to bring out a stick of gum to pop in his mouth. He’s trying to rid his mouth of his taste.

“Yeah, thought I could just go to my lab? Work on a few new projects?”

Fury shrugs. “Sure. I’ll be sending the captain in to get you later. You have a mission.”

Tony’s breath hitches at the mention of Steve, but nods anyways. 

“Course. See you then.”

Fury nods, letting him go, and as he passes a few doors, Clint pops his head out.

“Stark? You’re here pretty early.” He hums and turns toward the archer.

“Yeah, just decided to come in and work on a few new projects.” Clint nods. 

“Oh, okay.”

“What about you? Don’t you have a family?” His heart singes with pain, and he doesn’t know why.

“Yeah, but Fury wanted me for some reason. He still hasn’t told me. Some mission or something.”

“Ah, alright. Well, see ya later.”

Clint raises his hand in a way that he’s not sure if he would call it a wave or a salute, but he carries on to his lab anyway.


	5. Losing Control

“Tony.”

Why is he here?

Oh, yeah.

The mission.

“Yes, Rogers?”

“Tony, we need to talk.”

“Thought you were here to tell me about a mission.”

“Tony, please.

He turns and Steve’s blue eyes are swimming with pain and guilt, and he thinks that maybe, Steve feels bad for what he did, even after he promised that his original promise wasn’t empty-

“Yes?”

He strides over, easily closing the space between them, and before Tony can register anything, soft lips are pressed on his.

He knows this is wrong, that he shouldn’t let the captain keep doing this. All he needs to do is pull away, because Steve’s lips are hesitant, asking for his answer, so what is his answer? His answer is that he doesn’t want this, refuses to be broken  _ again _ -

Hands come up to grip at his biceps and Tony’s kissing him back, pouring emotion in, and Steve’s drinking it up, swallowing it, taking his breath away, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He wants him closer, so he tugs him, his lips like heroin, he’s addicted, and he can’t get enough of the taste.

It overpowers the gum in his mouth and he-

“Oh! S-sorry..” They break apart to see Bruce, face a flustered look, and he avoids their gaze.

“B-Bruce..sorry about that..” Tony looks at him, smile sheepish.

“It’s quite alright, Uhm..Fury sent me to come get you.”

This time, it’s Steve who speaks.

“Of course, we’ll be right there.”

Bruce gives a nervous smile and leaves, and Tony turns to the taller.

“We should probably go.”

“Right.”


	6. Not Sure About Anything

His wounds hurt. Burn painfully, but at least it’s distracting him from the worse pain. 

Steve’s throwing his helmet off, dropping to his knees next to him, face caked with blood and dirt.

“Fuck, Tony.” He breathes, and Tony gives him a pained smile.

“I’m fine, Cap.” But he’s thrown into a coughing fit right after, and he knows Steve doesn’t believe a word he just said.

“No, you’re not. Why’d you do that, Tony?”

He avoids his gaze, because he knows he’s right. He was reckless, threw himself into the fight without a plan, which is unusual for the genius.

“Don’t worry about it.” He already is, Tony knows that, but he can’t take the captain’s stare anymore.

“Tony-”

“Tony!” Rhodey comes running up, dropping to his knees next to him just like Steve had, and his face is full of worry, and Tony wishes he could just disappear.

“Hey, Rhodey,” he cracks a smile, hoping to fool him, but Rhodey’s no idiot.

“Don’t you ‘hey, Rhodey’ me. What were you thinking?” His face is full of worry, but it can’t match the look on Steve’s face. Full of worry, pain, and guilt.

He grunts, sitting up, despite the protests of the two beside him, but he just waves them off.

“I’ll be fine. Nothing a little whiskey can’t fix,” he jokes, but neither of them laugh and his voice cracks, trailing off.

“Look, I’m fine. Just..give me some space.”

“Anthony-”

Tony’s head snaps over at Steve, brown gaze sharp and glinting dangerously.

“Don’t call me that.”

His head is still dripping blood, and maybe that gash isn’t so innocent, but he doesn’t care.

He just wants to be far away right now.

Far away from Steve?

Maybe.

He’s not sure.

He isn’t sure about anything anymore.


	7. Torture And Blood

Why does he keep doing this to himself?

Subject himself to this torture over and over again?

Is it because he wants it?  _ Needs  _ it?

He doesn’t care how many times he wakes up alone, he’s so broken that he just clings to the feeling of Steve whenever he can. He can’t help the way he feels when Steve buries himself inside him, lips pressed to the side of his neck, teeth biting a mixture of blues and purples, and maybe even some reds into the unmarked skin there.

It had been marked many times before, but marks fade over time, and Steve is marking his territory again. Making sure silently that no one else takes what’s his.

He closes his eyes. Is this rape? No. It’s only rape if he doesn’t want it.

But..does he want it like this? Does he want to wake up alone all the time? Is this how he wants to live?

Blinking his eyes back open, they stare numbly at the dark ceiling, and he vaguely registers the warm body next to him and the arm thrown around his stomach.

He bites his lip as he feels tears build up, and his eyes burn to blink them back, but it’s no use. They overflood, flowing down and he can’t help the sob that escapes him, and Steve’s blinking himself awake, groggily looking at Tony.

“Tony?” His voice is deep, rough and filled with sleep still. He tries to hide his tears, but it doesn’t matter, because he’s already seen them, and his eyes are immediately widening. He’s quick to pull Tony close to his chest and run his fingers through the messy dark hair, the right amount of pressure with his nails against his scalp.

He can’t stop himself. He sobs into the soldier’s chest, and soon enough he’s screaming. Screaming until he can no longer and his voice leaves him and his throat burns so  _ goddamn bad- _

He tastes blood, the metallic tang leaving a bad aftertaste in his mouth, and suddenly, he’s got a mouthful, and there’s nowhere else for it to go except out, and now he’s coughing it up, throat burning even more and there’s blood staining his skin because he’s naked,  _ they’re both naked _ , and there’s hot tears staining his cheeks, dripping off his chin and-

“ _ Fuck!  _ Tony, are you okay?” He can’t breathe. His chest rattles with every gulp of oxygen he tries to pull in, his lungs are caving in, and the edges of his vision dance with little lights before darkening completely, and his hearing is muffled, like he has cotton stuffed in his ears, so the calls of his name don’t register as well, but he’s vaguely aware of the movements that are currently rocking through his body.

Nothing will register properly and settle in his mind, but there are soft calls of  _ Tony  _ in his ear, and he can hear that, it’s helping, just a little, and the edges of his vision are clearing, and his mind is settling, and he focuses in on Steve’s face.

“Tony. Sweetheart.” He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, nothing  _ can  _ come out, and his brown eyes are widening as the only thing that actually leaves his mouth is more blood and Steve looks so worried right now, but it’s his fault he can’t speak, his fault he screamed so much and so loud, his throat bled. 

His eyes burn from the tears and so does his throat, and he almost gags swallowing back more blood. His head hurts and his nose is stuffed from crying.

“Tony, please, what’s wrong?” He looks up, eyes closing as he pleads silently in his head that Steve could hear him without him talking.

“It appears as though Mr. Stark seems unable to speak due to the hemorrhaging of his vocal cords.”

_ Thank you, J _

Steve looks surprised at this, and Tony’s confused, because he’s sure he just coughed up a pint of blood so why does he look so surprised?

“J.A.R.V.I.S., what do you mean, ‘due to the hemorrhaging of his vocal cords’?”

_ Okay, are we dumb? _

“Mr. Stark screamed so loud and so much, he bruised his vocal cords, but he continued to scream after, and he tore the skin, it rubbed, and began to bleed. It would have been fine if it was just a small build up of blood, that would have gone away. However, the tear was quite intense, I suppose the word would be, which caused more blood to build up, and it had nowhere to go. Except out, of course.”

_ Said enough, did you, J.A.R.V.I.S.? _

Steve looks at Tony, and he wishes he could just disappear, but he can’t, so he gives the captain a forced, fake smile, but he knows that Steve saw through it.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter that he can’t speak.

Maybe it’s just better for everybody else that he doesn’t, because, maybe he’s just annoying. No one wants to hear his sarcastic attitude, his smart remarks, his stupid  _ stupid voice _ -

He screams again, and this time something comes out along with blood, and he doesn’t stop no matter how bad his throat burns, no matter how much his _body_ screams at him, and now Steve is even more worried, but does it really matter anymore?

No.

The answer is-

It does not.


	8. Confusion

“Stark. Do you have anything to input? You haven’t said anything in a while.” Of course Fury was going to notice, he knew that, but Steve is burning holes into the side of his head, but he doesn’t turn his gaze to him, instead he just shakes his head.

“We’re talking later, Stark.” He nods. It’s all he can do pretty much at the moment.

He doesn’t quite remember the rest of how that meeting goes, doesn’t remember if anyone looked at him, and if they did, he certainly didn’t notice. Didn’t care to notice, because he knows that he isn’t talking, he  _ can’t _ , but he’s sure this is better. Better he can’t speak.

“Stark.” He looks at him, eyes moving from his shoes up his body to finally his face, uncovered eye watching him.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?.” He swallows, and it burns going down, but it doesn’t matter. Pain is accepting at this point. His gaze looks around, searching for something he could use to communicate with Fury. It lands on a notepad, a pen right next to it, sitting right on a desk, and he strides over, picking up the pen and scribbling a message on it, before he hands the pad to the director.

“You can’t..speak? Did you lose your voice?” Tony pauses, before nodding.

“Okay..well. I suppose you’re off the hook.” He turns, and says nothing else, so Tony takes it as his cue to leave.

Leaving the room, he runs into Steve.

“Tony! I was looking for you!” 

_ That was obvious. _

He nods.

“How are you?”

He shrugs, nothing else he can do really.

“Right..forgot you can’t talk..sorry.”

He shrugs again, brown gaze watching him intently.

“Tony, I..” He trails off, and Tony wonders if he even knows what he wants to say, wants to know if Steve is just trying to make conversation but can’t. He’s just trying to prolong it.

He turns his gaze from him, and pulls his phone out, deciding that this is the only way to communicate at this point.

_ You’re stalling. _

Steve blinks, surprised when his phone goes off, but pulls it out anyway, reading the words that just popped up on his screen, before his face falls, blue gaze now avoiding the screen, and he just lowers his phone.

“Sorry. I..have to go..” Tony perks up, confused at his reaction, but let’s the other one walk away anyway, before wondering to himself. Had he said something wrong? Does it matter if he did? Shouldn’t Steve be feeling sorry for himself anyway by now? Doesn’t he deserve it?

He does, he should just let the other go, let the other wallow in self pity and guilt, it’s his fault Tony’s like this. His fault he lost his voice, his fault he can’t talk, his fault his throat burns so  _ fucking bad _ -

He runs after him, body moving on its own. His brain is screaming at him, telling him this isn’t the right thing to do, but maybe this time, he should just listen to his heart, because deep down, he knows that his heart is the telling him what the right thing is.

Steve must have heard him coming, because he stops before he’s turning, pools of blue on him, before they’re widening when the settle on Tony, his image registering in the soldier’s mind, before he’s crashing into him, arms coming up to wrap around Steve’s upper torso, face burying in his chest.

Steve’s confused, he has to be, but his arms come up to wrap around Tony either way, and he’s pulling him close, cheek resting against the black locks on Tony’s head, breathing in his scent.

“Tony..?” He doesn’t reply, he can’t really, Steve knows this, but he feels like the captain can read his body language, and doesn’t reply through there either.

“Hey..what’s happening with you? One minute you turn me away, and the next, you’re clinging to me like your life depends on it.” Tony closes his eyes, and Steve mumbles something almost inaudible, the rumble being something Tony can feel in his chest against his face, but he hears it.

“ _ Not that I’m complaining, but- _ ”

He shrugs, keeping himself pressed against the soldier, never wanting to let go of this feeling.

_ Please don’t leave me. _

“I won’t.”

Steve can’t read minds, of course not. He’s just read his body language.

..right?

Tears burn his eyes, and he’s scared, afraid, no,  _ terrified _ , that this won’t last forever, and somewhere in the back of his head, he knows it won’t.

Steve hushes him, almost as if he knew what Tony was thinking about. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”


	9. Broken Walls

He wonders if he should be out here right now, fighting with the rest of the Avengers when he still can’t even speak. How can he cry for help if he can’t even say hello? But then again, did he even want to cry for help? He’s not sure, he just knows he wants to get rid of the pain.

“Tony, I know you can’t respond but please stay close to us, I don’t want you to get hurt and no one can help you.”

Steve’s voice comes through his suit and he frowns.

_ I can take care of myself, Rogers. _

Changing direction, he shoots himself up, away from them, and Steve’s shouting at him.

_ How do I mute him through J.A.R.V.I.S if I can’t talk? _

“Would you like me to mute them, sir?”

_ He knows me so well. _

He nods, nothing else he can do, and soon Steve’s shouts are silenced.

“Do I even want to ask what you are doing, sir?”

Tony would shrug if he could, but J.A.R.V.I.S knows what he was trying to say.

He flies faster, he knows Steve is coming after him, but he doesn’t care. He just wants to be far away, he’s tired of feeling this way.

Something slams into him, and for a minute, he thinks he’s under attack, but it’s only Steve, and he’s struggling, but Steve’s not letting go, and he’s yelling, shouting.

“Tony! Stop!” Tears are spilling from his eyes but he doesn’t even care anymore. He’s struggling more, but Steve is stronger than him, and finally his helmet opens, and Tony’s face is shown.

“Tony..sweetheart..” Tony lets out a soundless sob, but he’s lurching forward, arms wrapping around his neck. It’s clunky, clumsy, awkward, because of Tony’s suit, but he doesn’t care. He just needs Steve right now. That’s all he needs.

Why is he such a mess? He isn’t usually like this. He usually hides his pain, hides his tears. He’s fine, he always is, but there was something about Steve that he didn’t understand. He’s been used so many times, lied to, stepped on, and he tries to channel that steel that Howard - his  **_father_ ** \- molded, trained, brought out in him, he’d smile and grit his teeth behind a pain filled smile, and he’d kept his eyes dry, and he’d stood firm against the waves, fighting, always fighting.

But he supposes, even rock eroded, broke, and gave against the water’s persistent waves.

Steven Grant Rogers was the water’s waves that broke down his walls.


End file.
